Lonely Hearts and Valentines
by Viv1
Summary: Claire visits New York to meet Nathan. Pure, hopefully entertaining, fluff PG13. Peter & Claire friendship, with Nathan. This story is now COMPLETE. Warning for minor swearing.
1. Chapter 1

"**Lonely Hearts and Valentines" **

**by Viv**

Title: "Lonely Hearts and Valentines"  
Rating: PG-13  
Characters: Peter & Claire (friendship only, relax guys)  
Summary: Claire visits New York to meet Nathan. Pure, (hopefully) entertaining fluff.  
Spoilers: Spoilers up to 1.14 Distractions.  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, just borrowing. All NBC's and Tim Kring's. Please don't sue!  
Author's Notes: Futurefic, takes place after the exploding man has been stopped. Peter's in between missions and has time to relax, m'kay? This story focuses on Peter and Claire's friendship, with some interaction with Nathan. Trying to test out the Petrelli family and how well they'll get along.

This is _not _a sequel to "My Cheerleader, My World." I'm busily writing that at the moment, but with the dramatic reveals of Claire's bio-dad, I just had to get this out of my system.

Feedback is love.

**Part 1: "Connections in New York"**

Claire Bennet's life had taken a decidedly weird turn.

Instead of spending her Valentines Day being inundated with the usual array of fluffy teddy bears, chocolate hearts and flowers from the corner store (that's about the limit a teenage boy's mind and wallet will stretch on an allowance), she would be spending it in the most glamorous city in America – New York.

She had dreamed that her real parents – bio-parents rather, she wouldn't want anyone to think that she still didn't love her real family, the ones who had actually raised her (her mom and brother at least) – would be super rich, living in a penthouse in New York City. Maybe have a rich uncle or two to shower her with gifts and attention.

What could she say? Sometimes wishes did come true, in a way stranger than anything she could ever have imagined.

She had travelled to New York to meet her bio-dad; Meredith Gordon had given her the address without actually being at liberty to divulge much else besides his name. Nathan.

He would be expecting her, she had said, on the first of the month. When she had arrived at JFK, she had gotten a taxi straight to the said address, not knowing whether it would lead her down a path she would rather not find herself on.

What if he turned out to be a horrible person? He may have been rich enough to afford a house in one of the most exclusive areas in New York, but was it going to be enough? Would his wealth make up for almost 17 years of neglect? Meredith believed that he had genuinely thought her dead, but the same insistent thought nagged at the back of Claire's mind – if things had been different, if the fire had never happened, would she still have been meeting him for the first time now? Meredith had rather hesitantly explained that Nathan had a wife and two sons now, both much younger than her. He had agreed to meet Claire on the proviso that neither she nor Meredith speak to any of the papers in New York.

Claire couldn't have cared less about that. All she had ever wanted was to meet her real parents. The second half of that journey was now coming true, and she was terrified. But she sucked in her fear and breathed through it; she had come too far to not see this thing through.

The cab took her through impressive wrought iron gates, passing through lusciously tended gardens. This was a dream come true, because as much as she had hoped, wished, dreamed that her bio-dad was a wealthy businessman from New York, the reality far outstripped the truth.

The kindly driver helped her unload her bags. Claire's hands were shaking so much from the anticipation she could never be sure afterwards just how much she ended up paying him. She ached yet dreaded the moment of truth before her; the moment when she finally met her biological father would only be a few minutes away.

Her breath was becoming more ragged, as if she had just finished a race. Her heart pounded, vibrations from it pouring through her ears. Her hands perspired as she glanced at the imposing entrance, the entrance to the rest of her life.

She had to get a grip. Meeting Meredith had not induced the same waves of anxiety as those assaulting her now. She somehow thought – felt, rather – that his meeting would end up being more significant. Somehow, in every sinew of her body, even in her very bones, she got this insistent feeling that a new chapter of her life was going to open shortly in front of her eyes.

Claire breathed deeply, she would get through this. She had died many times before, but none of them had been as scary as this. This she was genuinely afraid of.

She pressed the door bell and waited with bated breath. She heard footsteps quickly approach, feeling somehow that her destiny was coming nearer with every step. They were light and unhurried; it was clear that they belonged to someone who knew their way around her remarkable surrounds. The door opened and she gasped in shock.

Peter Petrelli stared at her, mouth gaping in astonishment. "Claire?" He said incredulously, looking at her like she was a figment of his wildly deluded imagination.

* * *

The patio on which she had been invited was cool without being uncomfortably so. The winter was now winding down, and the first hints of spring was apparent in the air about her. Claire could smell the faint aroma of readily blooming roses; the sweetness of the scent calmed her frayed nerves.

The entire table was silent. Claire shifted slightly, feeling more than a little uncomfortable at all the staring that was being directed at her by four sets of very dark eyes. It was hard to believe that Claire was actually related to all of them – well, with the exception of Nathan's wife Heidi, who she wasn't actually related to but seemed actually quite nice though a little taken aback by Claire's, for lack of a better word, blondness.

Nathan was scowling, somehow managing to look shrewd yet friendly at the same time. He reminded Claire of a shark with a really good dentist. This was her bio-dad, the one who she had come all this way to see.

Nathan's mom – her grandmother actually, now that Claire thought more clearly about it – was staring curiously at her without a trace of discomfort. It seemed like she was used to getting her own way in a lot of things and staring down an ex-cheerleader turned granddaughter seemed to be one of the things that didn't phase Mrs Angela Petrelli whatsoever.

Heidi was quiet and thoughtful, giving her faint smiles through pursed lips every once in a while.

Only Peter – her hero in this situation as much as when they had last met – deigned to save her from the supreme awkwardness of the moment. From the moment Nathan happened upon them staring dumbfoundedly at each other at the front door, Peter had gone out of his way to show how welcome Claire was to the Petrelli family.

That was, once he had gotten over the enormous shock that Claire Bennet was not only the cheerleader he had to save in order to save the world, she also was incidentally part of his family. The irony and profoundness of it all did not seem to have been lost on him, and she instinctively knew that out of everyone sitting at the table right now, politely sipping their respective teas and coffees, he would always be her strongest friend and ally in the Petrelli clan.

He gave her a small wink and a bright smile, his eyes darting to his brother's stony faced silence. He flicked his hair back and rolled his eyes slightly at Nathan's stiff correctness, making Claire break out into a tiny giggle. The small sound was enough to shake everyone out of their stupor.

"So Claire." Nathan's – and Peter's mother she supposed – cleared her throat consciously. "Where do you live?"

They made small talk until the sun climbed westwards and began sinking into the Manhattan skyline. By that time, Claire was exhausted and tired out by the myriad emotions of the day; it felt like she had literally been through a meat grinder and was being reconstituted really slowly on the other side.

Sensing her exhaustion, Heidi was the one to suggest that Claire get some rest before joining them for dinner – if she felt up to it. She wasn't practiced enough at social niceties to give Heidi Petrelli a proper thank you. She sensed that the older woman was making every effort to make her husband's illegitimate daughter welcome in her own house, for which Claire was profoundly grateful.

Peter nudged her playfully on the shoulder, walking with her to the foyer where she had dumped her bags. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."

Claire nodded, suddenly overtaken by shyness. Looking up into his open, dark eyes, she fleetingly wondered whether she would have to start calling him 'Uncle Peter' from now on. As he gave her a teasing smile at her sudden bashfulness, she decided that it would be pretty stupid; just as she wouldn't be in a rush to be calling Nathan 'dad' anytime soon, Peter didn't really feel like her uncle. He was still the handsome, older guy who had given his life up to save her, thrown himself off a building so that she might be saved. He would probably always be her hero to her.

Nathan looked like he couldn't get away from her fast enough, but Claire wasn't offended in the slightest. It had been one thing wanting Meredith to really like her; she had always thought Claire had died in the fire. It was an entirely different thing for Nathan, who now had his own family. He must have worried where Claire would fit into his life – if he wanted her to.

Claire followed Peter up the marble staircase. She was so tired she didn't even take the time to marvel at the works of art hanging on the walls as they passed by them.

"That was awkward for you, huh?" Peter asked bluntly, giving her a pointed look. The good humour that had imbued him earlier in the day subsided as it modulated to suit her sombre mood. "Must've been tough for you."

"Yeah, just a little." She had to laugh a little at herself, sighing quietly. "This wasn't … I guess I didn't know what I expected."

"I can understand that." Giving her a comforting smile, he squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "If you ever need to talk, I'm always here, okay? Seriously, I'm … a great listener. Nathan's the talker, I'm the listener. Perfect family, huh?"

Already he was making her laugh at herself. "What does that make me though?" She mused, a smile cracking onto her features. "People say I'm a talker once they get to know me. Otherwise … I'm pretty quiet. Jackie, she – she was always the loud one."

"Well then." He paused, giving her a soft, sweet smile. "We'll just have to get to know each other better then. Only –" Here the smile dropped off his face, leaving a pained expression. "Please don't ever call me Uncle Peter. I feel old enough with the boys calling me that without you doing it too."

That made Claire descend into a fit of giggles. She couldn't have agreed with him more.

* * *

It was hard to believe that blonde, blue eyed Claire Bennet was related in any shape or form to the lean, piercingly dark eyed Petrelli brothers. Really, really hard to believe.

She had been staying with the Petrellis for a week now. She was constantly asking Heidi and Peter whether it was okay for her to stay so long, but both of them had insisted; Peter had done so warmly and openly, Heidi had been a lot more understated. Claire wouldn't have stayed if she didn't think Heidi was genuinely okay with her staying; the last thing she wanted to do was to make her feel like a stranger in her own home.

She had learned a lot about Nathan and his family in one week. For example, she hadn't known that being a Congressman involved doing so much stuff that had nothing to do with governing, like being fake nice to people and going to places he would later grumble incessantly about – but Nathan did all of it superbly. All his activities meant that he rarely spent more than two minutes at home; he and his mother were forever attending public functions and schmoozing with luminaries that Claire only had a very faint idea why they were necessary and/or important to Nathan.

Heidi had explained that being bound to a wheelchair wasn't conducive to being a Congressman's wife and had abruptly left it at that. She didn't seem to mind though, spending the bulk of her time looking after her boys. Heidi even spent quite a lot of time talking to Claire, trying quite genuinely to get to know her and talking to her about Nathan. Strangely, it was through Nathan's wife that Claire was learning about Nathan himself.

Of course, she learned a lot about her biological father from Peter too. He too had made a lot of effort to make her feel welcome and at home. He had explained that he was between careers at the moment, so made it his new 'mission' to ensure that she wasn't miserable staying with them. At first she had been grateful that anyone in the family talked to her, now that she had Peter looking after her, she felt a lot better about having taken the plunge to meet her bio-dad.

Peter had taken her all over New York, intent on keeping her occupied while Nathan was conspicuously absent. He took her to Central Park, to see the Empire State Building, Museum of Natural History and other cultural places that slightly bewildered her. She had giggled until her entire body racked with pain at his determination in getting her to all the famous stores; Macy's and Bloomingdales weren't safe when the pair of them were around. To top of their mischief, Peter had rather deviously blackmailed Nathan into giving them one of his black Amex cards for Claire's sole beneficial use, using it liberally to buy almost everything she gave even the faintest hint of wanting. Nathan had given it with a woeful look on his face and had commented lamely. "Use it as much as you want Claire, I'll … foot the bill." He had looked like he was having an aneurism and passing a gall stone at the same time.

Their system was a straight forward and rather simple one. Peter would enter the rather intimidating and incredibly fashionable stores with a cheerful smile, charming female and male sales assistants alike with his warmth and candour. He'd pull her forcibly into the store, keeping a firm grip on her in case she lost her nerve and bolted until they did at least one round, by which time Claire would have recovered from her nerves. If she began to even hint that she liked something, Peter would rather officiously wave the black Amex around, alerting every sales assistant in the vicinity of the tasty commissions on offer. They would flock like geese to placate her every wish and desire. She felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, except for the fact that she wasn't a hooker and Peter was certainly not … well, as old as Richard Gere, and that they were related.

So maybe not so much like Pretty Woman after all.

It was an odd irony she supposed, that after coming to New York to get to know her bio-dad better, she had instead gotten to know her bio-uncle a lot more than anyone else. With the exception of Zach, Peter had become her closest friend.

A lot sure could happen in one week.

He had also taken her to his apartment a few times. Heidi would sometimes shoot them strange looks, but if she thought their closeness was odd, she kept her opinions to herself. Since no one really seemed to care what the two of them did, she followed Peter around like a very annoying poodle he happened to have picked up. She reminded herself of Mr Muggles, but didn't mind the comparison at all.

It was strange to Claire at first having an older friend. She didn't really feel like dishing the gossip with him for example, mainly because it didn't seem like the thing to do. Peter had his own place and own life away from his family; he'd been and gone to college, refused to join a fraternity, had done volunteer work in both New York and third world countries, had travelled and had quit a career all by the age of 26. Talking to him and spending so much time together really opened Claire's eyes to what lay beyond in the big wide world. There really were more interesting things in life than learning cheers and being popular; there was friendship and experiences and sharing unique and genetic 'talents'.

Because best of all, she had finally found someone – well, people she supposed, including Nathan and Peter's other 'gifted' friends that she had met this week – that understood what it was like to be different. More than anything else, Claire's conversations with Peter revolved around their unique abilities – how they discovered them, how they were able to use them and for Peter, his struggle to get a grip on them.

This was why the struggle to find her bio-parents had been worthwhile. She finally felt that she understood where she truly came from and a little of why she was born this way. She hadn't yet seen Nathan fly (he only rarely did it to give his kids a special treat Claire was told) but Peter was more than willing to play with his power.

He also seemed fascinated by Claire's regenerative capabilities, so much so that she offered to throw herself off the roof to give him a good demonstration. He had looked at her in horror before she had sniggered. "Relax Peter, that was a joke. You know what those are, right?"

He had swatted her then, playfully tugging on her long, blonde hair. "Squirt."

"Whiner."

"Brat."

"Do gooder."

"Cheerleader."

Claire had paused, trying to contain her laughter. "Male nurse!" She managed to squeeze out, before she completely and totally lost it.

That had been yesterday on the roof of Peter's apartment building. When they had finally managed to return to Nathan's place last night, they found him pacing in the foyer, cell in hand.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Nathan had demanded angrily, fixing a steady gaze on the two of them.

The smile dropped off Peter's face, replaced with a frown. "Oh my god, take a breath Nathan. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is." He indicated the time on his watch. "It's past midnight and neither one of you was smart or mature enough to answer your cell phones. This is New York for god's sakes, you could've been –" He gesticulated wildly, something that Claire also did when she was angry. It was an odd realisation at that moment. "Been killed or died or something. Jesus Peter, I would've expected this from Claire but you? You're 26 years old, grow up!"

"Hey!" Claire and Peter had protested angrily together, looking at each other before giving Nathan objecting looks.

Peter took a deep breath. "My battery's dead. That's why I didn't answer my cell."

Claire had whipped her cell out and realised why she hadn't answered any of Nathan's calls. "My phone was on vibrate." She had stated lamely, intimidated by the intense irritation on his face. "So that's why I didn't answer my cell."

Nathan had made an odd hmph noise. "Well. As long as you're okay." He said gruffly to her, not bothering to look at his brother. "You and your – both of your – abilities make you a target for things to happen. Do you get me? I'm not around much, and I'd rather not be saddled with trying to rescue the two of you from whatever madcap scheme my little brother's cooked up this week." He had ignored Peter's look of protest. "You're the older one now, you need to act like it." Nathan stared awkwardly first at Peter, then at Claire.

He had then shocked her by awkwardly patting her back, before giving her an uncomfortable hug. "Yeah, well, I'm going to bed. Good night." He had said gruffly, quickly walking upstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2: "Things That Matter" **

Apparently, people in the Petrelli household slept in on Saturday mornings. It was very different from the Bennet household where getting ready for weekend soccer games, taikwondo meets and cheerleading practices all conspired to prevent anyone in the family from sleeping in, even if they wished to do so. The smell of freshly made pancakes, waffles or toast would seep into her room every morning, leaving Claire hardly any choice at all but to get up and have breakfast.

It was already 10AM, but all was still silent downstairs. During her early morning reconnaissance downstairs, she discovered that everyone, with the exception of Nathan's two boys – her half brothers really, Claire still hadn't gotten used to the idea of two _more _brothers to deal with – who had already been chauffeured to their respective piano lesson and soccer game by an actual chauffeur, was still in bed.

It was odd to wander unsupervised in the sprawling Petrelli family home, a home that really was more of a mansion or estate deserving of its own zip code rather than a house. She had walked restlessly around the minutely kept gardens, admiring the hours of care and effort that someone had put into the kaleidoscope of flowers and shrubbery that demanded awe from anyone lucky enough to walk through them, and she had explored the entire ground floor of the house, awe struck by the rich décor and the elegant understatement of everything around her. Claire had even discovered a few additional rooms that she hadn't been aware of before although she had now stayed with Nathan for over a week; it made some quirky sort of sense, seeing as the library and the billiard room were probably the least likely places she'd ever visit.

Now she was back in her room, lying with her stomach down on the bed. Luckily for her, Zach was also a relatively early riser, at least early enough for her to call him to catch up. "What's up Zach?"

Even from a few states away, Claire could hear the wry amusement in her best friend's voice. "Enjoying your life of luxury?"

"Why yes I am." She stared down at the sepia bed sheets, loving how soft they felt under her fingers. "It's starting to feel a little like home."

"Hope not too much." Zach yawned. Claire liked that he hadn't even bothered to hide it. "Otherwise I'd never see you again. You'd be back to pretending you never knew me."

"No I wouldn't." Although he was joking, a shot of anxiety coursed through her. She had come too close to losing just those very memories not too long ago, the fear was still raw in her mind. "I'd never forget you Zach."

There was a heart felt pause, before he quickly covered it up. "Good to know, now I can rest easy. Why are you calling me at 10 in the morning?"

"Can't a girl just call to say hi?"

"Not when that girl's surrounded by every conceivable luxury in the world, flanked by the most incredible uncle _ever_." Zach put up a high pitched voice. "Ooooh, Peter did this today, and he took me to Central Park and we had ice cream and it was sooooo much fun!" He squealed girlishly. "We saw this movie and we had popcorn, and he was so nice and he showed me all his powers. He's my _hero_."

"I so do _not _sound like _that_!" Claire protested, saying it more loudly than intended. She turned around, making sure that the door was still securely closed. "Oh you are so going down when I get back. I promise you, your life's not going to be worth living!"

Zach was still laughing at his own joke. Claire drummed her fingers patiently until he subsided, glaring at the open window and trying to imagine new and horrifying ways to kill her friend. "Are you finished?"

"For now." She had always liked Zach's dry sense of humour, but obviously not so much when it was directed at her. "Okay, so what's been happening? Where in wonderful New York have you been to in the past few days?"

To his credit, Zach did sound genuinely interested. That was another thing Claire liked about him, he was sincerely interested in other people and often went out of his way to be nice to them, particularly with his friends. Her heart softened and she relented, telling him of all her escapades with Peter.

"You know, it's hard to imagine all these people you keep talking about." Zach's tone was thoughtful. "Peter's the one that can fly, right?"

"No." She huffed good naturedly. "Nathan can fly, Peter's an …" She tried to recall the exact word he had used to describe his ability. "Peter's an empath. He absorbs other people's powers."

"Like a sponge?"

"Something like that." Claire muttered.

"And your bio-dad can fly, but you haven't seen him yet."

"Right."

"You have a weird family Claire."

"Tell me about it." His comment for some reason made her pensive, thoughtful.

After a few seconds of silence, Zach said contemplatively. "You know, things would go a lot smoother if I had some visual cues." Off her puzzled silence, he explained. "Pictures, Claire. Send me some."

"What, you think I've been going around getting some happy snaps to take back home?" Claire asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"Well, yeah."

"Um, no."

"Well, get some now. With your phone." Claire stared dumbly down at her phone, struck by the awesome simplicity of the idea. Zach had again cemented his position as the much smarter of the two.

Claire pretended to be put out. "Oh, all right. I'll see what I can do."

Almost as if on cue, Peter poked his head into the room, squinting against the bright sunlight. "Good, you're up." His eyes scanned her freshly showered form and her change of clothes. "And you seem to have been up for a quite a while. Breakfast is ready."

Claire turned and smiled at him, saying absently to Zach. "I'll call you later."

"Was that Peter?" Zach teased. "Say hi to him for me." Claire hung up on him without deigning to reply.

"Hey." She said brightly, hoping he wouldn't notice her flustered look. Freed from Zach's teasing, it was only then that she realised she was looking at a very horrible and particularly shocking sight.

"What's wrong with your hair?" Claire blurted tactlessly, staring googly-eyed at Peter's extremely unkempt 'morning' look.

Which was actually the world's biggest understatement. Claire had admired the way Peter presented himself, always appearing well groomed without being overly fussy or effeminate. It wasn't what he wore, it was rather the way he wore his clothes that suggested an easy casualness with himself and his life. Best of all was his hair – sleek, dark and always with that comic book, flippy quality that she didn't know could actually exist with a real life person.

But now it was standing up on end in every conceivable direction. It looked like a tornado had ripped through it.

Peter quickly tried flattening his flyaway hair self-consciously, indignant under her horrified scrutiny. "What?" He said defensively, continuing to press his hair down. "I ran out of product, okay? And I didn't have a chance to – what?"

How could she say this more tactfully? "It looks horrible. What did you _do _to it?"

"I have bad dreams sometimes and I … struggle." He paused, coming across to sit on the end of her bed and asked anxiously. "It doesn't look that bad, does it?"

"Well …" Claire stifled a giggle at his sudden sombreness, running quickly to her overnight bag to pull out her personal supplies. "Let's see if I can fix this." She was already laying everything out neatly on the bed, wondering where to start.

"I think this can wait until later." Peter eyed her pointedly. She chose to ignore him and started brushing his hair, encountering a few knots on the way and making him gasp in pain. "Ow!"

"Stay still."

"Come on, I may be – what did you call me before? That word?"

"Sensitive?"

"No, that other made up one."

"Oh." Peter sure had a look of sleek, dark hair to comb through. "Emo. You're emo Peter. You should play it up, girls totally dig it."

"Right, emo. I may be _emo, _but it doesn't mean I like having my hair done by a teenage girl, who's incidentally my niece!" He finished this mini-tirade with some indignation.

"Claire? Peter?" Nathan poked his head into the room and stopped short at the scene of Claire liberally applying product to Peter's hair. "When you've stopped braiding each other's hair, breakfast's getting cold." He made to close the door but stopped. "Oh and Peter, I know you've always had a thing for your hair but come on. Leave my kid alone!"

Peter made a face at the closed door, muttering. "He spends more time on his clothes than I do."

"Here." Claire bossily tilted his head towards her again, using her fingers to lightly mould his look.

"So who was that guy you were talking to?" Peter asked with feigned indifference.

"Who, Zach?" His hair was really hard to get just right.

"Yeah." There was a pause, Claire pursing her lips. Why wouldn't Peter's hair flop the way it usually did, with his bangs partially covering his face? "Is he your boyfriend or something?"

Peter's careful tone was enough – just enough – to draw her attention away from his hair. "Huh? Zach?" She gave a little laugh. "Ah, no. Nothing like that. He and I … we're just friends."

He evidently misunderstood her tone because he pressed on. "Do you … do you want it to be something more?"

She frowned in confusion before understanding finally dawned on her. "What, with Zach? God no." She smiled a secretive little smile. "He's … let's just say he bats for the other team."

"Oh." Peter seemed oddly mollified by that answer and patiently suffered her remaining ministrations. It was only when she was finally satisfied with his look that she let him leap off the bed. "That's more normal. Now, can I take a picture?" She held up her phone expectantly.

Obviously feeling like he was compelled to agree, he allowed her to take his picture. "Er … thanks." Peter mumbled, suddenly appearing embarrassed at what he had subjected himself to. "I'd appreciate if you wouldn't ever mention this little episode to anyone, especially Isaac. He'd give himself a heart attack laughing so hard if he knew about this."

Claire smirked, secretly pleased. "It'll be our little secret."

* * *

After Nathan's mini-meltdown the night before, Peter tried coaxing Claire to stay in for the day. "We have a pool house further down the grounds if you want to use it." 

"It's like, three degrees outside!" Claire protested.

"Oh, yeah." He paused to collect his thoughts. "Want to go to Times Square?"

"Okay." Claire jumped up eagerly. That was an iconic landmark she had yet to explore and having Peter as her personal tour guide was a huge plus.

"Nathan!" Peter shouted at the top of his lungs, grinning conspiratorially. Even Claire knew by now that Nathan hated people shouting inside the house; he often complained that it startled the hell out of him. "Claire and I are going out! Just so you know!"

There was silence for a few moments before Nathan appeared, looking for lack of a better term, extremely grouchy. "How many times –"

"I like to shout." Peter cut his brother off, handing Claire her red coat in the process. "We're going to Times Square. We'll remember to _call _if we get into trouble."

Nathan's only response was to call out after them. "Make sure she's home before midnight!"

* * *

Claire hummed tunelessly to herself, feeling a little put out. Peter had, as promised, taken her to Times Square and they had a really enjoyable afternoon bumming around the area, allowing Claire to just absorb the energy from the bustling metropolis around her. She wasn't used to seeing so many people in the one place, with tourists and locals alike criss-crossing like a sea rolling with turbulent waves. 

Towards the end of the afternoon, Peter had received a call from Mohinder. It was apparently really important – so important in fact, that he had abruptly cut their day short. He had gotten her home in record time then had quite firmly but kindly told her she wouldn't be coming with them to put down some trouble that had arisen in New Jersey. It was really the first time Claire hadn't gotten her own way with him and it was disconcerting to say the least.

"Why can't I come?"

"Because, it could be dangerous." He repeated patiently for about the hundredth time. "Nathan would kill me if anything happened to you."

"But I'm indestructible. As in, cannot be destructed … destroyed."

"You're not." He replied crisply. He appeared much older than her all of a sudden. "You told me yourself. When your brain was pierced, you didn't regenerate. That means you're not invincible. You can be hurt, even killed." Peter crossed his arms, a stubborn expression on his face. "You can't come with us."

"But I _want _to!" Claire hated she was being so juvenile about this, but what the heck? In for a penny, in for a pound. "You're being stupid." She pouted.

"No actually, I'm being sensible. Just because you regenerate doesn't mean you can't be hurt, emotionally or physically. I won't risk it."

"You have no right!" Her voice was approaching dangerously high pitched levels. "I'm not some little cheerleader that has to be protected. I can help you – help everyone."

"Maybe. But not this time."

"You can't do this, you have no right!" She was outright yelling at him now.

"I can and I do have a right." Their argument was heated enough to make even Peter more than a little flustered. His face was red, even his eyes had a slight red glow to them and his voice was raised. "Don't make me pull the uncle card."

Claire was breathing so heavily now she felt like she had just finished a particularly hard routine. "You're too young to be my uncle." She retorted angrily, clearly having run out of things that actually made sense to say. "You're just like a stupid, stupid, floppy haired, emo slacker who can't even do his own hair properly and who's got no right to stop me from going!"

"That's the most stupidest thing I've ever heard, and why are you always so fixated on my hair?!"

They stared at each other, suddenly realising how stupid they must both sound to anyone within a ten mile radius. Grinning with sudden bashfulness, Peter muttered something with the words "sorry" and "didn't mean to be rude".

Claire shrugged, feeling more than a little stupid herself. That was certainly the silliest argument she had ever had. "Sorry."

"I know." Peter grinned at her through his bangs. "You understand right squirt?"

Claire sighed heavily, hating to concede the point. "Yeah."

"Come here." He closed the gap between them and embraced her without reservation. "I just need to keep you safe." He whispered into her ear, lighting stroking her hair. "It's my mission, it always will be." Claire flushed with the memories of all the horrible things she had just said to him. How could he be so nice and kind to her when she had just been so terrible to him?

They grinned awkwardly at each other, but was thankfully saved further embarrassment by Nathan storming into the room. "What in the name of Mary Magdalene is going on with you two? I could hear you half a house away."

Peter threw Claire a shrewd, calculating look. "You might want to talk to your daughter." He said pointedly to Nathan, grabbing his leather jacket off the couch. "It wouldn't kill you to spend some time with her you know. She's your daughter; act like you're her father." With that he strode out, leaving Claire to gawk dumbly at her bio-dad.

Nathan's eyes narrowed before he gave her a brief, accepting smile. "Heidi and mom are out at the opera. Want to grab some dinner?"

She had to hand it to Nathan. Once he decided to do something, he did it to the fullest and most extravagant extent. She found herself stuttering back. "Sure. What did you have in mind?"

Nathan thought briefly, his dark eyes boring into hers. Whereas Peter's eyes were always warm and friendly, Nathan's were closed off, glittering and cold like stone. "Feel like some fajitas?" Off her delighted look, he smirked wickedly. "Heidi hates them, but between you and me, they're my favourite. Always have been."

"They're my favourite too." She grinned stupidly up at him, feeling a connection to her biological father for the first time. Maybe Nathan wasn't such a grumpy father after all.

"All right. Just give me a few minutes to change." He looked down at his impeccable polo shirt and tailored pants. "Where we're going, this will be overdressed."

* * *

The Mexican restaurant Nathan took her to was exactly as he had led her to believe. Casual, loud and with the best fajitas this side of the galaxy. 

Seeing her ecstatic expression, he chuckled. "Told you they were good."

She couldn't even reply her mouth was so full. "Delicious." Claire had never seen Nathan so relaxed; it was like he'd unwound himself and for the moment at least, was no longer the uptight upper class jerk he appeared to be most of the time.

Impulsively, he leaned forward to wipe the sauce that was dripping down her chin. He gave her a baffled smile as he caught himself, awkwardly handing her the napkin.

"Thanks." She wiped her mouth self-consciously. "And thanks for spending time with me. I know you're pretty busy and all."

He waved her concern away. "As much as it pains me to say it, Peter's right for once." Nathan really did look physically pained by his confession, a fact that would have made her smile if not for the serious look in his eyes. "I shouldn't have been avoiding you. It's … really not my style." He sighed heavily and shot her a piercing look. "So, how are you at school?"

Claire was flattered by his interest. At the back of her mind she knew that this was exactly the kind of thing he did for a living; feigning genuine interest in people he couldn't have cared less about. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she believed that at this moment at least, he was genuinely interested in getting to know her.

This was what she had originally come to New York for. She wasn't going to waste the opportunity and be held back by her fear of rejection; this chance was too precious to squander.

So she told him everything. She started with the small stuff, things like her hopelessness at math; her co-captaincy of the cheerleading squad right up until the squad's dissolution, her friends and family, how she grew up, funny little stories about her mother and Lyle. Claire was careful to stay away from the subject of her father; she didn't want to betray the confusion that was still going on in that part of her life. "So I don't really do that well at school." She finished sheepishly, holding her breath expectantly.

Instead of being disappointed by her lack of academic prowess, Nathan shrugged nonchalantly. "Peter was never good at school either. He turned out all right." He finished the rest of his fajita, giving her a generous wink. "Okay, that's another thing you shouldn't tell him I said. Otherwise I'd never hear the end of it." It was the first time Nathan had made her laugh and she enjoyed the feeling. It made her feel closer to him somehow and much more comfortable being around him. "At least you're the co-captain of the cheer squad. Most make you popular, huh?"

"I _was _the co-captain. They kind of had to dissolve the squad after what happened to Jackie."

Nathan nodded. He surely must have heard some garbled version of it from Peter. But Claire hadn't even discussed it that deeply with Peter, she had tried hard to forget her friend's murder in front of her very eyes. "She was your friend?"

"Yeah. She … she died because of me."

"What do you mean?"

"Sylar, he – he thought she was me. Thought she had my power." Nathan stared penetratingly at her. Unlike Peter, Claire still couldn't get a good read on Nathan. He was a lot more enigmatic than his brother and a heck of a lot harder to understand.

"It's not your fault." Nathan finished his drink, glancing at her with thoughtful expression. "You finished with that?" He indicated the remains of her meal.

Claire nodded. Talking about Jackie had made her lose any appetite she had.

Nathan gestured for her to get up. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'll get the bill."

His movements were so sharp and precise, it reminded her of her PE teacher when she was in one of her drill sergeant moods. Claire stood at attention, quickly putting on her coat. "Are we going home?" She asked timidly after Nathan had paid.

He laughed, although it came out more as a bark. "Better. I think you might need some cheering up kid."

* * *

Claire looked around, baffled as to how driving her to one of the most dimly lit parks in the area could possibly have the effect of cheering her up instead of scaring the heck out of her. "What … are we doing here?" 

Nathan locked the car and gestured, a secretive smile on his face. "You'll see." He led her down a path until they stopped at a clearing, leafy oaks on either side of them. "Okay, so you told me about your fetish for teddy bears and your love of the mall. Big surprise for a teenager. I'm going to show you something only my family – and possibly a few others – have seen."

His mysterious approach was making her nervous. What could possibly be in this park that could have cheered her up at this point? She looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. "Okay …"

He stepped closer, so close until he could have given her a tight hug if he wanted to. "Just one thing. Are you scared of heights?" She shook her head, half-terrified at what he was going to do. He put his arms securely around her frame, holding her tightly to him. He whispered into her ear. "I have to make a confession. I've never flown anyone else before."

Before Claire had time to react, she found herself flying along with Nathan at an incredible supersonic speed. The wind whipped her hair painfully against her face, but she couldn't have cared less. The whooshing sound of the wind, the vast emptiness of the air around her and the clouds flying past her with the speed of a bullet – she had never felt more free in her life. She managed to shout above the roar. "Oh my god Nathan, this is incredible!"

He smiled enigmatically. "I know, isn't it?" Was all he could say, as he put on even more speed and flew them upwards towards the moon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3: "The Lonely Hearts Club"**

Claire couldn't stop talking about her flying episode with Nathan. It was lucky that Peter had been true to his word and he was an exceptional listener, patiently sitting through her rambling monologues with an indulgent smile on his face. "That's fantastic, I'm glad Nathan wasn't an ass." He leaned in, a conspiratorial smirk on his face. "Between you and me, he can be quite a softie. When that happens, just move in for the kill – he won't be able to say no to anything. I've seen Heidi and the boys do it all the time."

Claire giggled, trying vainly to cover it up as Nathan walked in. Peter and Claire were sitting at the counter in the Petrelli's large and well-equipped kitchen, eating Ben and Jerry's, straight out of the tub of course – there was no other way to eat ice cream.

Nathan eyed the two of them suspiciously. "What's so funny?"

They responded in unison which did nothing to dispel Nathan's suspicions. "Nothing!" Claire glanced guiltily at Peter who winked back, as Nathan looked on, eyeing them warily.

Peter had been attacking a tub of chunky monkey with Claire looking on in a mixture of frustration and admiration. They had spent the entire day wandering around New York, going back to Times Square due to their earlier trip being cut short and doing some more (very important) shopping. She had eaten so much that day she was hot-dogged and tacoed out, but hadn't been able to resist the temptation of several tubs of Ben and Jerry's ice cream sitting so forlornly in the freezer. Peter had shrugged casually, yanking out two tubs and handing the chocolate fudge brownie one to her. He had known exactly which one to pick as she had made a point to let him know earlier about it, just in case he wanted to 'surprise' her with a special treat. Her premeditation had obviously produced results.

Just before Nathan had entered the kitchen, Claire had been busy scrutinising Peter. If this was the amount of food he went through every day, how did he stay so slim? Where in the world did all those calories go? She hoped that this particular talent of his was genetic.

"Right." Nathan sure didn't sound convinced and Claire had to admit she and Peter weren't helping their cause. Peter shrugged and went back to eating and licking his spoon.

Claire put her spoon down. She had already had too much, she was starting to notice that time always seemed to fly by when she was with Peter and god only knew how long they had been talking before Nathan walked in on them. "Hey, how many times have I told you –", Nathan pointed at Claire then Peter. "Not you, you – how many times have I said not to do that? Mom and Heidi absolutely hate it, and I end up taking the heat for it."

"Relax Nathan, like it's a big deal." Peter responded lazily. "We'll go out and buy another couple of tubs. Heidi will never notice." It was quite rare for Peter to brush his brother off so casually; Nathan was surprised but recovered like the politician he was.

Nathan yanked a drawer open, taking out a spoon. Glaring at his younger brother, he looked down at the tub sitting in front of Claire. "Chocolate fudge brownie?" Claire nodded wordlessly, sliding the tub until it was between them. "It's my favourite."

"Mine too." Claire said, her eyes wide with more wonder than the innocent comment really warranted. But she figured it was understandable; after spending over a week with Nathan's family it still surprised her she actually had anything in common with her rather imposing bio-dad.

The Petrellis spent several moments of silence enjoying their guilty pleasures. After a while, Nathan sighed heavily. He sounded exhausted and curiously down beat. "What did you guys do today?"

Claire told him what they had been up to that day. She was grateful that Nathan was still trying to be nice and more importantly, interested in what she was doing and going through, but it was obvious even to her that he was preoccupied by other thoughts.

She shot Peter a surreptitious glance; he nodded silently to confirm that he too had noticed his brother's uncharacteristic lethargy. "What's the matter Nathan?"

"What do you mean?" Nathan glanced furtively between Peter and Claire. "I'm fine."

"No you're not." Peter replied matter-of-factly, brushing his bangs out of his face. "You forget who you're talking to." This was obviously a conversation Peter and Nathan had had many times before. "I probably won't be able to help but you might feel better talking about it."

"Says the failed male nurse to the supposedly corrupt politician." Nathan mumbled sarcastically.

Nathan's insult didn't have a visible effect on his brother but anger shot through Claire. Peter was only trying to help Nathan, he didn't need to insult his own brother just because he had had a bad day at the office. "It might help." Peter coaxed.

Nathan looked fleetingly first at Peter then Claire, who was giving him a less than impressed look. "All right, just … for heaven's sake, don't tell anyone."

Claire moved to get up from her stool. "Do you … need me to leave?"

Peter glanced at Nathan seriously, who nodded imperceptibly. "No, stay. As long as it stays in the family." Peter's face brightened and Claire found herself grinning back stupidly the implied acceptance of her into the family. Nathan looked between the two of them and sighed. "I'm serious guys, this has to stay in the family."

Claire nodded obediently, with only a trace of a smile on her face.

* * *

Peter of course had been right. Once Nathan had expelled all his pent up anger – and Claire couldn't quite get a handle on how much there really was of it, the man looked in such supreme control most of the time – her bio-dad cheered up considerably, to the point where a shadow of a smile even threatened to appear on his stern features.

Claire and Peter chatted about anything and everything; having spent so much time together they had an easy camaraderie. Nathan looked on with a rather amused but veiled expression.

Claire was telling them how surprised she was to find that was an actual kitchen in the house. The first few days in the Petrelli mansion had involved sitting down to elaborately prepared meals, some of the best she had ever had. For some reason, it hadn't even occurred to her that people could have meals like this in their own home; her mind was probably still stuck in the Bennet household where her mom made everything they ate and had traditional but delicious dinners ready and prepared by 6 each night.

Not that Claire was complaining – she was definitely enjoying how the other half lived.

"What, you didn't think we had a kitchen?" Nathan asked incredulously as Peter sniggered. "Like we had house elves or something?"

Claire did a double take. Did Nathan just reference what she thought he had referenced? "You read Harry Potter?" If her voice was slightly high pitched, it was due to her complete and utter surprise. "_You _read Harry Potter?"

"No." Nathan retorted defensively, while Claire tried really, really hard not to giggle insanely.

"Oh you so do!" She broke into a fit of giggles. Although Peter didn't have a clue what they were talking about, he clearly enjoyed seeing Nathan put onto the back foot. "House elves? That's not something you just _know_."

"Yes, okay. I mean, not me. I have to read it to my kids. Jesus Christ, is it a crime to read Harry Potter now? I read them aloud to my kids, is it my fault I've got a photographic memory? Jesus."

"No." Claire barely managed get the word out, such was her desire to erupt into another fit of giggling. Somehow she had the feeling that Nathan wouldn't take too kindly to any prolonged poking of fun at him. "Not your fault at all."

Peter had almost buried his face in his chunky monkey, pretending to ignore the ridiculous conversation going on between his brother and Claire. She snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye and almost lost it entirely. It was true that Peter appeared preoccupied with finishing the entire tub, but it was also true he was snorting silently at the image of Nathan reading Harry Potter books.

His expression – wicked and gleeful and oh so enjoying his brother's moment of embarrassment – breached her resolve. She erupted into a fit of nervous laughter, setting Peter off along with her. They laughed so hard Claire saw stars in her eyes and she was afraid the last mouthful of ice cream would come leaking out of her nose. Tears ran down Peter's cheeks and he was having difficulty trying to swallow in between his bursts of laughter at the same time.

"Oh for crying out loud." Nathan muttered, yanking the chocolate fudge brownie away from Claire and cradling it to his chest. "You two are unbelievable. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my study."

* * *

She and Peter had fallen into a comfortable pattern during the week. Knowing that Claire wanted to get out of the house frequently – she was used to running from cheerleading practice to other extracurricular activities back in Texas – she always felt restless whenever she stayed at the mansion for more than two hours straight. Peter wasn't one to stay cooped up in his family home either so they made perfect companions as they roamed the bustling city together.

Claire knew it couldn't last forever though. Peter was a grown man and as much as it pained her to admit, these were probably the halcyon days of their friendship. Soon he would probably have to think about whether he wanted to give hospice nursing another try or if not, what else he wanted to do with his life. He had hinted as much to Claire over the past few days.

She appreciated all he had done for her already – everything from literally dying for her, looking after her during this really turbulent time in her life – those things she couldn't ever repay. She could never have expected any more of him than he was willing to give, and it wouldn't have been fair for her to demand more, even if she wanted to.

So she kept her mouth shut and tried to value each and every day that he was there for her. Claire knew that sooner or later she would have to face up to reality on her own; she had learned pretty quickly that was the way the real world worked. In the end, everyone was alone.

"What are you thinking about? You look like you're having an aneurism or something." Peter flicked her hair playfully.

She was so full from her pancake lunch that she couldn't even be bothered to reach across to punch his arm. Actually, she changed her mind, promptly reaching out to punch him hard on the chest. "Ow." He rubbed his chest, giving her the evil eye. "That really hurt."

"Please." She rolled her eyes, settling back into her previously comfortable position. "You've absorbed my power so you're indestructible. You can't be hurt."

"Think again." He pinched her lightly on the arm.

"That's real mature." Claire had a feeling that Peter wasn't actually aware of the extent of her power. Sure she regenerated pretty quickly, but that wasn't the end of the story. She also had reduced pain perception, making a lot of things that were a big deal to ordinary people not such a big deal to her. "And I'll let you in on a little secret. Most things? They don't hurt me. As in, I don't feel pain when it happens."

That put a pre-emptive halt to their brewing argument. They were lying once again on the roof of his apartment building after having enjoyed a lot of Peter's special pancakes with blueberry and strawberry sauce. Claire had even had the foresight to bring up picnic rugs so that they didn't have to sit on "the ickiest floor in the world".

Peter sat up, his face one of keen interest. "What do you mean?"

Claire absently used her hand to shade her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sunshine. "I mean, when I do crazy stuff – jump off buildings, walk through fire – I don't feel it. Not like how others do."

"So you don't feel pain? When I pinch you." Here he pinched her again for emphasis, "You don't feel anything?"

"I felt you pinching me. It just didn't hurt." She rubbed her arm. "It feels kind of itchy actually."

Peter made a curious noise of acknowledgement. Suddenly he jumped up. "Hit me." He ordered her.

She squinted up at him, the sun making his frame a silhouette. "Excuse me?"

"I said, hit me."

"Why?"

"I want to see whether I've absorbed enough of your power to exactly duplicate it. I've healed before, but I'm pretty sure it hurt like hell."

Claire thought about his request for a moment. She jumped up quickly and before he was prepared for it, she socked him squarely in the jaw. She was proud to say that the desired result was extremely gratifying, seeing the stunned look on Peter's face. "Was that good for you?" She asked innocently, pouting for good measure.

Peter was obviously trying to contain the sting from her punch. Her punch had made his body reel from the impact. When he turned back to her, he made a curiously sour face. "Is my nose swelling?"

"No, there's just a bit of blood coming out. It's healing already."

"Good." He produced a tissue from the pocket of his jeans, sneezing some residual blood out. "It hurt." He pouted with a twinkle in his dark eyes. "Was worth a try. Nathan's right, crazy does run in our family." He mumbled lamely.

Claire rolled her eyes, scrutinising the handsome man in front of her. Peter was a very strange mixture of boyish good naturedness and a determined warrior, it was hard to tell which side of his personality would rear its head at any given moment. She was pretty sure that the boyish, slightly less mature side of him had won out just then in the supremely silly experiment they had just conducted.

"Are you all right?" He was asking her? She had just socked him in the face.

"Ah – I just punched you. You're asking me?"

"You just seemed a bit down, that's all. And don't try denying it, I've got a fifth – sixth sense about these things."

Claire looked up into his earnest eyes, all warmth and sympathy and kindness. He made her feel it was possible to pour her entire heart out to him, everything from the silly concerns about him cutting his hair to the big stuff like what if Nathan wanted nothing more to do with her after she finally left New York. It didn't seem fair to unburden all her hassles on him. But he was such a kind and caring soul, she didn't have the strength to refuse.

So she told him everything that had been stewing in her mind. It was mainly about her father – her not so nice non-bio dad who had once threatened to take away the most important memories of her life – and the sense of being adrift in the world. Claire had been lucky and had a really nice childhood, none of which prepared her for the turbulent time she had in the last six months or so. "And … this is going to sound really stupid." It was such a stupid thing to say she couldn't even meet Peter's eyes.

"What?" He brushed her arm lightly, the touch prompting her to look finally look straight into his deep, caring eyes. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

She nodded, trying really hard to blink stubborn tears away. "I'm just … so lonely." She wailed, rushing to explain. "I can't help it, I know I'm not alone. It's just that – just that I feel like I've lost my entire life in the last few months. I trusted my dad and he – he wanted to take a part of my mind away from me. He flies around the world kidnapping people with abilities – people like _us _– and experiments on them? I wasn't even adopted properly. Meredith didn't even know I'd survived that fire and it's like, it's like my entire life's a _lie_. You rescued me from Sylar and it turns out you're my uncle and Nathan's my bio-dad?" Try as she might, she couldn't stop tears escaping down her face. Peter looked on in anguish, hands covering hers silently. "I don't know what's real and what's not, I just … I don't know Peter." She hated that she sounded so young, like she couldn't handle and deal with her own stuff like a grown up should. But Peter was so nice and kind and caring, and she trusted him so much, he was the lifeline she needed at the moment.

"Hey." He said softly, sliding closer to her until he was able to press her close to his chest. "You aren't being stupid. You're being … incredible. If you didn't know that before I'm telling you now. All that stuff you've been through – I don't know anyone that could've handled all that as well as you did." He stroked her hair, lightly, carefully. "I certainly couldn't. All the stuff that happened to me last year – I didn't handle it very well."

"What do you mean?"

"I was so excited when I discovered what I could do – like it was finally my chance to be somebody. And then everything went figuratively to hell and … I almost killed a lot of people. Maybe I'm just not cut out to be anybody important."

The aching loneliness in his voice surprised her so much it was able to draw her from her misery. "How can you even _think _that?" Claire demanded hotly, pulling away from him. "You _are _somebody, you're a hero. You're my hero and you're incredible and you threw yourself off a building and you didn't even know you'd survive. That's an incredibly brave thing to do and I can't believe … You'll always be somebody to me. You're my hero."

Embarrassed by her outburst, she withdrew further away but Peter instinctively grabbed her and she again found herself clinging to him. She hated herself for needing his friendship so much. "And you're going to go back to your life soon. I'll go back to Odessa. We'll keep in touch but it won't be the same."

"Come stay with us. In New York." Peter said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "I know my brother, he'll want you to stay. It may not seem like it, but he's grown quite attached to you."

Claire sniffed, wiping her nose. "Has he? I can't tell."

"No, but I can. Trust me, if he didn't like you he won't hesitate to show it." Peter chuckled mirthlessly, looking at the Manhattan skyline behind them. "And …" He drew his eyes back to her, eyes that suddenly appeared dark and murky. "I'd like you to stay. I don't know." He laughed, shaking his head a little in embarrassment. "For some reason I trust you. Like you're the only person who's okay with me being the way I am." He shrugged. "Maybe it's because we're related."

"Maybe." Claire murmured. It was an odd thing to realise, but she somehow felt that their connection – for lack of a better word – had nothing much to do with them being related. She liked to think that even in an – what had Zach called it? An alternate universe, she and Peter would have been close despite the disparity in their ages.

As if reading her mind – and she wouldn't have put it past him to have accidentally done so given he had told her about absorbing Matt Parkman's ability – he chuckled. "It's a bit disturbing though isn't it? A 26 year old guy saying that to you? I mean how old are you, 17? Maybe Nathan's right and I'm really not right in the head."

"16. And you shouldn't reference Nathan all the time, he's kind of an ass to you sometimes."

"Whoa, careful." Peter smirked down at her. "That's your dad you're talking about."

Claire scoffed. "I don't care if he _is _my bio-dad – it doesn't mean he's a saint."

"You're wrong about him. He does care, deep down. He just has a hard time showing it."

"I'll see it when I believe it."

"You will." Peter replied confidently, staring out into the distance with a faraway look in his eyes.

"And to answer your question, I don't think it's weird at all. I mean, Nathan's your brother and you – sort of – get along with each other, don't you?" Off Peter's nod, she continued. "And he's what? How many years older than you?"

"About 10 or 11."

"Right. So the so-called 'gap' between us is the same as between you and Nathan. Doesn't mean it's crazy that you guys get along, does it? Sure he protects you and stuff, but so do you – protect me I mean. There's not much difference between that is there?"

"That's weird." Peter murmured, sneaking a glance in her direction. She winked at him, imitating his now familiar gesture. "How did you get so smart at 16?"

"I have good genes." She grinned smugly at him.

They grinned stupidly at each other, aware that they had just had a fairly meaningful moment. As if to shake off the intensity, Peter leaned in. "You got any plans on Wednesday?"

"Nothing besides sitting in front of the TV with a huge bag of potato chips, some Ben and Jerry's and whatever movies Nathan and Heidi have at home."

"You won't be doing anything of the kind. You'll be out with me." He declared, an impish smile on his face.

"Wait, you aren't doing anything?" She asked in disbelief, eyeing him up and down. "It's Valentine's Day!"

"Yeah, I know." He huffed indignantly. "What, not everyone has to have a date on Valentine's Day. It's unnatural to just ask someone out just because you don't want to be alone. If you're going to be moping around – and you will be, I _know _you – we might as well mope together."

"Yeah but …" She hated to state the obvious, but she did anyway. "You're my uncle."

He rolled his eyes. "Well obviously it's not going to be like _that_." He made a face, which was pretty close to the way Claire felt about it. "Besides, not everything's about – well, _that_. Valentine's Day is about spending time with people we love, no matter how we love them. It doesn't matter whether we're related or not."

Claire giggled. "You're so emo."

Peter ignored her. "So what do you say, squirt?

"Don't call me squirt." She retorted automatically, pushing herself off the floor. "And I would love to mope with you on Valentine's Day."


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4: "Be My Valentine"**

"Claire!" Peter's shout alerted her to the fact that he was already here for their super moping session tonight, probably tapping his feet impatiently waiting for her downstairs.

"Coming!" She shouted back, taking another quick look at her reflection in the mirror. She knew – and yes, she really did, she wasn't going crazy – that this technically wasn't a 'date' date because – ew, this was her _uncle _– there was no reason why she shouldn't look nice. It was as much for her benefit as for anyone else's and Claire was honest enough to admit that at 16 years old, she enjoyed the feeling of having boys going ga-ga over her long blonde locks, knockout figure and bright smile.

Peter wasn't technically a boy – and he was her uncle to boot – but that didn't mean she had to dress herself in a brown paper bag to mope with him on Valentines Day.

She looked at herself critically in the mirror. She had departed from her usual slightly off-centred, girlish style, instead opting for a chiffony pleated white dress with an understated gold belt around her torso. It had been one of the many (many) things that Peter had bought for her with Nathan's black Amex last week, and he had made a point to let her know that he had thoroughly approved of it. Claire, knowing how exceptional Peter's taste in clothes were – just look at the way he dressed on a daily basis – had agreed wholeheartedly with him. She had allowed her long, blonde hair to cascade around her right shoulder like a torrent of golden rain – there was no need to fix what wasn't broken.

Claire grabbed a wrap she had borrowed from Heidi and hastily threw it around her shoulders, knowing that a chill had descended outside. Her eyes fell onto the express package that had come from Zach, now lying opened on her bed.

She smiled, adjusting the two teddy bears and the massive box of chocolates that had arrived only that morning. It had come with a ridiculously Zach-like message that Claire couldn't wait to show to Peter; only Zach could have made her squeal in glee and happiness at the same time by being himself.

He had remembered that one of her complaints before heading to New York was that she'd be alone on Valentines Day. What he hadn't told her was that he had planned from that moment on to remind her that she really wasn't going to be alone.

Zach was too sweet sometimes, reminding Claire that she shouldn't be so quick to wallow in her sorrows, not when she had two incredible people such as Peter and Zach to lean on.

"Claire, come on!" Peter sounded just the wrong side of irritated at being kept waiting. She glanced at her watch and winced at the lateness of the hour. She ran downstairs, just in time to catch the tail end of an intense conversation taking place between Peter and Nathan.

She had been taught by her mom and (lying) dad that eavesdropping was a big social faux pas. But that didn't mean that she wasn't going to do it.

Nathan was hissing. Although he didn't sound at all angry or irritated like he usually did, there was an undercurrent of darkness there. " … can I just remind you that's my daughter? You're my brother. That makes you –"

"Oh my god Nathan, I know. It's not like _that._" Peter protested, grossly offended by the idea. "How sick to do think I am?"

"Well, crazy does run in our family. Look, Heidi's mentioned how you're always with her. Don't you think you're getting a little too close to your _niece_?"

Claire made a face of disgust which was mirrored in Peter's own. "Is it a crime to look after your own family? Besides … there's nothing … Jesus Nathan, we're friends. I raced all the way to Texas to save her, do you have any idea what that means?"

"It means you doused yourself with a fresh can of crazy that day?"

Peter shook his head in exasperation. "It means it was destiny. I had to save her, and she saved me. And now that we've saved each other … it's like we're connected. Even beyond being family. Can you understand that?"

"That's precisely what I didn't want to hear. How close are you anyway?"

Claire peeked carefully over the banister as Peter squeezed Nathan's shoulder congenially. "Come on, she's my – we're family. Do you have any idea how lonely your daughter is right now? Open your eyes man, so much has happened to her lately, I'm surprised she's not more wreaked by what she's had to go through."

Nathan sighed. "Yeah, I know. She's a pretty confused kid. I don't blame her."

They were still speaking in hushed tones. A surge of guilt ran through Claire at eavesdropping on this moment between the brothers, but she shrugged it off. It kind of concerned her, so … she was entitled to listen in, just in case they got anything wrong. "She's not a kid. If you just get to know her, you'd see she's had to grow up pretty quickly."

"I have been getting to know her." Nathan hissed back, throwing a glance in her direction. Claire quickly retreated into the shadows, hoping fervently that her bio-dad didn't just catch her eavesdropping in on him.

Evidently he didn't because their conversation continued. "I just ..." Nathan sighed, looking down at his watch. "Look, I'm taking Heidi to our favourite place tonight. We'll continue this when you get back."

Seeing that now was as good a time as any to drop in on them, Claire tip-toed back to her room. Loudly slamming the door, she stomped downstairs just in time for Nathan and Peter to get a glimpse of her from their vantage point at the bottom of the staircase.

It was gratifying to say the least that Nathan and Peter were both caught by surprise by her look. A secretive smile tugged at the corners of Peter's mouth, while Nathan stared up at her wide eyed, before giving her a rather genuine smile. "You look beautiful Claire." He shot Peter a pointed look. "I'll trust Uncle Peter to look after you tonight."

Peter and Claire both winced, Peter's jaw clenching slightly. "Don't worry Nathan, I will."

Heidi's appearance at that point effectively put a stop to further bickering between the brothers. Soon Peter and Claire were left in the large house to their own devices.

It was then and only then did Claire get the chance to appreciate how nice Peter looked tonight. Related or not, she was still a girl and she could objectively appreciate genuine hotness when she saw it. He appeared freshly shaven, dressed in a stripped, sky blue shirt that accentuated the glittering darkness of his eyes. Tailored black pants and a slim metallic midnight blue jacket finished off the outfit. Peter had also slicked his dark hair for the occasion but not so much that it didn't still flop over his eyes; his entire look tonight was an odd mixture of east coast ivy league and rebel without a cause.

He was smiling up at her, eyes twinkling and sparkling with mischief in the dim light. "What Nathan said."

Claire tittered nervously at the whimsical look on his face. It was making her nervous which was stupid, because no matter how dressed up they both were tonight and how different they looked, this was still Peter – her hero.

Claire marched down, pulling her cell phone out of her bag. She had the perfect thing to dispel the slight awkwardness of the moment. "Look, I got a message from Zach today." She giggled with anticipation. "I think you may have an admirer." Peter frowned and read the message.

"_Thx 4 d pics. Ur uncle is Hot! Pls send more (if u want to)!! Happy V's Day, Luv Z"_

Peter roared with laughter. "I just might have to meet this Zach of yours." He gave her a playful squeeze. "Happy Valentines Day Claire."

Her clear blue eyes met his shining, sparkling ones. "Happy Valentines Day to you too, Peter."

* * *

Claire looked at the fast dwindling Manhattan skyline from the ferry, the lights twinkling and glittering against the coal black backdrop of the star lit night. It was more than a little cold at the moment – slightly freezing technically – but she wouldn't have given up this magnificent view from the Staten Island ferry even if she were torn limb from limb from it.

True to his word – and Claire had noticed by now that Peter had a freakish propensity for keeping his word – she had had a great time 'moping' about town with Peter on tonight of all nights. The place that Peter had brought her to for dinner had a low key, comfortable setting for which Claire had been grateful. She wasn't ready yet to be exposed to the sophistication and chic-ness that New York nightlife was famous for, she still felt like an unlettered schoolgirl/cheerleader from the backwaters of Texas and hadn't felt like being ogled and stared at for her lack of style.

She decided that Peter had been right before in saying that Valentines wasn't just about celebrating the romantic side of love. She and Peter were connected in a very mysterious and slightly ethereal way, and it was a love that defied definition. They were related, but it somehow went beyond that.

Seeing her uncontrollable shivering, Peter took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. "Hey." She protested, but despite indignation she wrapped it instinctively around her small shoulders. "Thanks."

"You looked … very cold." Peter remarked, giving her a playful squeeze. "And it's my fault, I didn't think about the weather when I suggested the ferry ride."

"No." Claire breathed, noting how the wind gently whipped their hair away from them. "It's beautiful. I love it, it's – it's beautiful."

"I'm glad." Peter grinned, turning and leaning on the railing so that they now faced each other. "I love Manhattan, it's always been my home."

They stared into the murky stillness, all the while the skyline becoming smaller and smaller as they neared Staten Island. "Do you do this often? I mean, take girls out onto the ferry?"

"Only cheerleaders from Texas." He winked slyly at her, and Claire was caught by how much he resembled Nathan in that instant, although he was playful without the edge of biting sarcasm that often laced her bio-dad's tone.

"That's good to know." She glanced up as the Statue of Liberty swept by slowly, breathing out in awe. "Makes you seem so small compared to everything else."

"It's gorgeous." Claire grinned before catching Peter's eyes. He hadn't been looking at the statue but rather at her.

They broke eye contact awkwardly. The vibe between them suddenly got a whole lot weirder. "So … so there's something I've been meaning to show you and Nathan. Something I made to show my bio-parents what I could do."

Peter quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh?"

Claire explained about the videos she had made – well, the second one, seeing as how the first had been destroyed – showing the extent of her healing ability. "I know that you're not one of my bio-parents – " Peter sniggered in agreement. "But you're family. I think you should see it, if you want to."

"I'd like that." Peter replied softly, staring down at her with a muted expression on his face.

Claire looked around, searching for something else to say. She blurted out the first thing she thought of. "Do you think we're too close?" Off his perplexed expression she rushed to explain. "I heard what you and Nathan were talking about back at the house."

"Oh." Peter nodded, scratching his chin absently in thought. "So you were eavesdropping? Didn't your parents ever teach you that was rude?"

And suddenly they were back to being the Peter and Claire she was comfortable with. She smacked him hard on the chest, aiming specifically at the place where she'd decked him before. "I'm serious Peter. Is it … unnatural?"

"You make it sound so dirty." Although his eyes were serious, the smirk on his face let her know how ridiculous the question sounded, even to his ears. "I wouldn't worry about Nathan. He's … you'll notice this eventually. Sometimes he gets just a little too preoccupied with what other people think. But life's not like that Claire, at least, it shouldn't be."

Claire made a non-committal noise. "Perhaps."

"Don't worry too much about it." It was a credit to him that he didn't sound at all like he was patronising her. "We are what we are. Other people might want to put a label on it, but I've learned to not … get drawn into that. Live your life the way you want to live it, not how other people want you to live it. Does that make sense?"

His eyes were so earnest, she didn't have the power to doubt him even if she had wanted to. She returned his smile, bashfully looking down as he covered her hand with his. "I don't want to freak you out or anything. But I really think we were destined to … It wasn't an accident we met the way we did."

"Did you mean what you said to Nathan? About us being connected? That we were destined to save each other?"

Peter nodded emphatically, his eyes distant. "Yeah." He sighed heavily, suddenly aware of the intensity of their conversation. "You're pretty easy to talk to about things like this. The Petrelli family … we tend to be a materialistic lot. Except for the black sheep of course." He smiled ruefully.

Claire squeezed his hand. "I guess I must be a black sheep too. Besides being illegitimate."

That prompted a guilty chuckle from Peter. "Sorry."

"What for?"

Peter shook his head as if trying to throw off the seriousness of their talk. "Oh I almost forgot." His other hand reached inside his jacket pocket, producing a package wrapped in red velvet. "This is for you. To make you mope … a little less tonight."

Reaching out with trembling hands, she carefully unwrapped his gift and promptly gasped in shock, disbelief and wonder. It was a necklace, slim and either silver or white gold – she couldn't really tell which – with a small diamond teardrop on the end. "Oh my god Peter, it's … it's … it's …" She tried searching her dumbfounded mind for the right word – probably in the vicinity of 'gorgeous', 'beautiful' or 'magnificent', but her mouth refused to stay connected to her brain.

Peter gazed down at her steadily, his expression unreadable. "It's just a little … reminder of your trip to New York." Claire fingered the necklace lightly, almost afraid that it would disintegrate from her touch such was its delicacy. Even in the pearly glow of the moonlight, it shimmered and sparkled at her touch.

"But … I didn't get you anything."

"That's okay. You can owe me. I'll collect when you come back to New York."

"I already owe you my life." Claire stated quietly, saying what she had wanted to say since the day she had first seen him bloodied and bruised on the ground at her school. "Really, it's too much – way too much."

Peter took one look at her awed face and chuckled for a few moments. "If you're worried about how much it cost … Don't worry, I snuck in a few purchases for myself on Nathan's Amex." He leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm not sure I'll be the first person he'll finger when he sees a purchase at Tiffany's during our shopping spree."

Claire giggled into the velvet still tightly held in her hand, trying really hard to stem the rising gurgle of laughter that threatened to erupt from her. She was trying to imagine Nathan's face when he finally received his credit card statement. "You're so evil!"

"I think it runs in our family."

They soon were forced to alight onto the Staten Island end. Walking around to make their round trip back to Manhattan, Claire spied a lone florist packing up his stall and quickly ran to him.

She returned with a single white rose, shoving it at a startled looking Peter. "That's for you."

"You're giving me a rose?" He looked at it, a curious smile on his face. "Do guys get roses?"

"Emo ones do." She snorted, explaining the significance to him. "Jackie and I read this in a mag once. Roses are what you're supposed to give on Valentines Day." She elaborated off his still uncomprehending look. "Different colours mean different things. We're obviously not – you know, _red _– but we're probably white. It means …" Claire struggled to dredge up the memory from the back of her mind. "White means friendship. Maybe death. No, I think it's friendship."

"That's good to know." He smiled at her indulgently. Before she could react, he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Thanks Claire."

"You're welcome." She whispered back, enjoying the best Valentines Day ever moping with Peter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5: "This Is Not Goodbye"**

Her bags were packed. She couldn't believe this day had finally come, and more incredible still, she couldn't believe that her time in New York had exceeded even her wildest dreams.

Nathan and Peter had offered to take her out for one last breakfast before she flew back to Texas. She had been expecting some sort of goodbye gesture from Peter, but Nathan offering to come along had touched her deeply and was the icing on an already delicious cake. Claire still didn't know very much about her bio-dad, but she could see that he was trying to show that he did – or could care about her – given enough time. That was enough for now.

Heidi sat serenely in her wheelchair, hands folded primly in her lap. She watched with careful eyes as the others readied to leave. "You sure you don't want to come?" Nathan asked his wife quietly, bending down to give her a kiss.

She shook her head, gently straightening the collar of his shirt. "No, I think I'll leave you guys to bond." She wheeled herself to Claire, leaning up to give her a small kiss. "I probably won't be around this afternoon when you leave Claire. It's been good having you around."

"Thank you." Claire wasn't sure that enough of her gratitude shone through because she found Heidi's acceptance of her presence incredible. "Thank you, for everything." Heidi just shook her head, waving a cheery goodbye as they headed out.

Claire's interaction with Peter had been subdued all morning, which was unusual for them. Normally they were the chatty ones with Nathan looking dourly on, but in the car ride to the café where Nathan usually liked to have breakfast, Nathan was doing all the talking. It was awkward and stilted and filled with things that Claire didn't have the foggiest idea about – including a bewildering array of references to various bills, meetings and lunches – but at least it filled the silence hanging heavily in the car.

Claire couldn't stop thinking about her Valentines non-date with Peter. She kept telling herself – it really was more of a mission statement or mantra by now – that it hadn't meant anything like _that_. Peter was her biological uncle, that fact couldn't be ignored. So their awkwardness after the incredible night couldn't have had anything to do with _that._

She shook her head inwardly. No, as if. She knew why she didn't feel like talking to Peter this morning. Speaking to him meant acknowledging in some way that they were soon to part ways, and to accept that she was going to part ways with Peter made her ache for his companionship even before he disappeared from her life.

Claire wanted to live in an alternate universe, a dream world where she didn't have to go home and face the music. She was only 16 years old; why couldn't she have the life that other kids had?

But she had to go home. Her father – lying, filthy human being that he was – had finally issued the command to come back. They had tentatively called a truce after having realised she had sought her biological mother out, with her dad realising that the Haitian had not done a good enough job the first time. He had believed that her healing ability had allowed her brain to regain her lost memories; she hadn't bothered to correct him. If keeping her father in the dark about what her ally's true agenda was, she welcomed this misinterpretation.

The only reason why her father had let her go – first to see Meredith and then to Nathan – had been her promise to go back to Texas. She had pleaded and cajoled, all the while being sick to her stomach at having to plead with this man for something she wanted so badly. But she had swallowed her pride and loathing; she had to think of Lyle's welfare too. They weren't related by blood like she was to Nathan, but Lyle was more family to her than Nathan was at the moment. In return, her father gave his word – if that meant anything to anyone anymore – that he wouldn't try to have her memories erased again. It was a fair deal, or so he had said.

She had wanted to rant and rave at him. Fair deal? Her skin crawled every time she thought about how close she had come to losing all of this. If the Haitian hadn't defied orders, she would have been oblivious to everything that was happening to her now. Oblivious to Meredith and Nathan and worst of all, Peter and Zach. Forgetting them was all the stuff that her nightmares were made out of these days; worse was thinking that she could lose it all in the blink of an eye.

Her maudlin daydreaming sure sped up the time because before she knew it they had arrived. When they were finally seated at a table, Nathan glared at the two of them and impatiently burst out. "Okay, I've had enough of this. What the hell's going on with you two this morning? You haven't had two words to say to each other."

"Nothing." Peter mumbled, astutely avoiding Claire's eyes by using the menu as a screen.

Nathan looked to her for an explanation. She shrugged, looking away with almost as much skill as Peter. How could she have explained it? That she was already missing Peter so much it hurt to even look at him because then she'd be reminded of how she was going to miss him when she was due to fly away in a few hours?

She nervously fingered the necklace that Peter had given her last night. It had become one of her most treasured possessions, right up there with her diary and her special, tattered first teddy bear sitting on her bed at home. It was something hard and tangible that would remind her of Peter and Nathan and everything that had happened in New York; she really didn't ever want to risk not remembering that.

Nathan drummed his fingers on the table, his irritation at having his question dodged not helping his mood. The thick silence hung around them until after they had ordered when Nathan efficiently snapped them out of their misery. "Oh I see what's happening."

His knowing tone peaked her curiosity as Peter looked on. "What?"

"Something happen last night? Uncle Peter make little Claire mad?"

"Stop calling me that." Peter gritted, his eyes shooting daggers at his brother. "And she's not little."

Claire didn't appreciate being called 'little' either. She really wanted to wipe that smirk of her bio-dad's face. "Nothing happened Nathan." She grinded the words out pointedly. "I'm just …" Her mask broke then, and everything that she had been trying to hold in place snapped out of control. "I don't want to go. I'll miss you – " She looked directly at Peter before flicking her gaze to Nathan, "I'll miss you guys so much. I don't want to go back to Texas. I don't want to go back and face _him._" She mumbled miserably.

Her emotion must have prompted Peter out of his lethargy. Before she knew it, he had reached across the table and placed his hand over hers, a gesture that prompted Nathan's eyebrows to shoot skywards. "Hey … we'll keep in touch. We'll remember you, you won't ever lose that." The emphasis he put on that word reminded her of their conversation a few days ago when she had confessed her fear to him. "And I'll –" he corrected himself. "We'll always be here for you if you need it."

That seemed to have broken down the great wall of awkwardness that had briefly sprung between them. They were able to resume conversation, hesitantly at first, with their natural ease and comfort returning swiftly in full force. Nathan looked at the two of them, clearly confused at what had just transpired.

Before he could ask them though, their food arrived. Claire took one look at Nathan's plate and giggled. "I never would've picked you as a waffle person."

Nathan raised a single eyebrow, trying to show disdain at her amusement. But despite himself, the glint in his eye was more merry than dangerous. "Hiro got me into them. That guy just wouldn't stop until I tried them. He's a crazy, crazy little man."

Peter grinned at his brother's unusual admission, his mouthful of bacon preventing him from coming up with a witty retort. He did snort however, making Claire giggle even more. "Oh shut up you two."

Claire had pancakes with chocolate sauce. She tried to put everything else out of her mind besides enjoying these last moments with her new found biological family. Peter was obviously trying to do the same thing, because she found herself chatting about inane things like where they liked to shop, the kinds of clothes they liked to wear, what music they listened to, what exactly were on their ipods at the moment – anything that wasn't the slightest bit personal or that would make her cry. Some things Nathan just stared blankly at, which reminded Claire of how different her interaction with him would be given the time, but others he even joined in.

Claire wished that breakfast could last forever, but as it usually was with these sorts of things, the time spent with Nathan and Peter actually seemed to go faster, not slower. They soon left, with Nathan already late for a meeting and lunch with a visiting Senator.

* * *

"Ready to go?" Peter came up behind her, innocently placing a hand at the small of her back. At his touch she jolted out of her melancholy; his presence seemed to have that effect on her. 

She nodded, turning around to get a last glimpse of the house. Nathan gazed down at her grimly, and if he looked a little misty eyed at her parting, she judiciously chose to ignore it for the sake of his pride. "Well, I guess this is goodbye." She said sedately, looking straight at her biological father.

Nathan eyes fixed on hers for a while, then closing the gap between them, gave her a somewhat less than awkward hug. "Bye Claire." There was a pause, during which he appeared to be chewing his lip. "Look, I know Peter's already said … well, just. You're more than welcome to stay. Come back and stay." He eyes were distant, as he gazed out onto the lawn. He was either deep in thought or unnaturally interested in the state of the shrubs in his immaculate garden. "You're welcome to."

Claire hugged him back, more tightly this time. Despite his gruff, brittle exterior, she finally got the sense that he was really fond of her. Claire didn't know whether they would ever get along like a normal father and daughter would or even beyond the awkward hugs and touches he randomly bestowed – but it was enough for now.

She had to make herself go. If she stayed another second, she would lose the courage to leave.

Peter ushered her out, his hand still resting on her back. "Are you okay?" Claire nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

She remained silent as Nathan's driver drove them to the airport. Claire occupied her mind by gazing blankly at the scenery as it whizzed by, every second bringing her closer to the time when she would have to say goodbye to Peter. She knew it was irrational to think of him so intensely, but if she could be honest with herself – and with this she really had to be – saying goodbye to him was the moment she dreaded the most.

They reached the terminal way too quickly. Claire looked around the milling crowd forlornly, trying to delay the inevitable. Even the check-in conspired against her, with almost no queue and a smiling attendant eagerly sweeping her away from New York.

"Claire, look at me." Peter whispered. She steadfastly refused to meet his gaze until his hand crept into hers. It was an unusual gesture even for them, and it was just intimate enough to capture her attention. "It's not the end of the world." He smiled, the expression brightening his features. "You can come visit."

"You don't understand." Claire looked up at him desperately. "My dad – I can't trust him. I just don't know whether I can stand up to him."

"If you ever need me – just call. I'll be there quicker than you think."

"But you'll be all the way in New York. What if –"

He placed a finger over her mouth. Glancing around furtively, he leaned in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You forget I absorb people's powers. I think I've been around Hiro enough to … put his ability to a really worthwhile use."

The effect his words on her could not have been exaggerated. Her entire being seemed lighter all of sudden and her eyes sparkled in the afternoon light that was streaming through the floor to ceiling windows. "Can you … really? You can teleport?"

He chuckled, embarrassed all of a sudden. "I ah, haven't tried yet. But now I have a reason – I mean, I'd be a lousy hero if I couldn't come to your rescue, wouldn't I?" His grin was so infectious and he trusted his ability so much, it made her believe him.

"You better come through." Claire was only half-joking, looking fearfully up into his deep, dark orbs. "I'm counting on you."

"I'll be here." He wrapped her in a big bear hug, bemused at how much their parting affected both of them. "You won't make your flight if you don't go." He said softly.

Claire smiled through suspiciously wet eyes. This was stupid, she was going back to Texas, not to the other side of the world. She was allowing her fears to control her, just as they had threatened to do when she had first come to New York, unsure of what she was going to find. If she had swallowed her fear then, she could certainly do it now.

Peter followed her with his eyes, rubbing her arms tenderly before stepping back to allow her to depart. She waved, smiling stupidly at him before she walked toward the departure gate.

She hadn't made it more than a few steps before she gave in to her last desire. "Peter!" He whipped around at Claire's shout, just in time to receive an armful of her as she threw herself into him in an unguarded moment. She clung to him desperately, softly, not caring how young and brittle she must have seemed. "I'll miss New York." She waited for a beat, before daring to say what she had really wanted to say. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too." He whispered back. His voice was deeper and throatier than she remembered it being. He laughed as if realising something for the first time. "I really will miss you Claire."

They clung to each other in the bright sunshine, heedless of the milling traffic around them. Claire knew she was young and sadly lacking in experience, but that didn't mean she couldn't recognise a true bond when she saw it. And her bond with Peter, this half-man, half-boy that held onto her just as blindly as she was hanging onto him, epitomised that true bond.

She and Peter were family, but they were more than that. They were true friends, destined to be together, and destined never to really be apart.

* * *

She returned home later that night to a largely quiet house. She dumped her bags onto the polished floors, the heavy thump as they hit the ground echoing in the emptiness. 

Funny, how large she used to think her house was. But after spending two weeks in Nathan's palatial mansion, she noticed for the first time how cosy and intimate the Bennet house in Texas was. Still, she couldn't help but feel that coming back to Texas – it felt like home. New York had been a wonderful holiday from the realities of her life and now she was back to live her life.

Her father walked slowly out of the kitchen, tea towel in hand. He didn't seem at all surprised to find Claire standing in the middle of foyer despite her not having bothered to tell him she was coming back that day. She figured he had issued the order for her to come home; it didn't mean that she had to prepare him for her arrival and make his life easier.

"Claire-bear." She couldn't believe how fake that sounded. What was worse, she couldn't believe that after all that had happened, including her mom's illness, he still clung to the desperate charade that everything was normal. Peachy keen in the Bennet family.

But there was no Bennet family now, not really. Claire's life had fractured in the moment of discovering her father's betrayal of her friends and her memories. Her happy childhood was no more than a distant dream, as irretrievable as scattered dust in the wind.

"Don't call me that." She didn't even bother to dignify his charade with an act of her own. Why pretend that she hadn't been compelled to return home by a desperate promise she'd made? "You don't have to pretend like you care about me. I came home like you wanted." She peered around the kitchen. "Where's Lyle and mom? Are they okay?"

"Lyle's fine, he's at soccer practice. Mom's … resting upstairs. Claire." Her father stepped forward, the foreboding expression on his face oddly juxtaposed with the 'Greatest Cook in the World' apron he was wearing over his dress pants and neatly pressed work shirt. "I'm not pretending. You have to believe me, I care about you and Lyle and mom. If nothing else, believe that."

"How can I?" Claire's resolve to not let him get to her was already being broken. She felt sick every time she looked at him. She couldn't stomach the thought of having to live under the same roof as the man standing in front of her. "How can I believe anything you say when all you've ever done is lie to me?"

"That's not true and you know it." His soft tone belied the rigidity of his features. "Everything I've done has been for my family. Now you may not agree with my methods, but believe that everything – and I mean everything – I've done has been for you and your mom and Lyle."

"That's right, I _don't _agree with your methods." She wiped the tears that were now streaming down her face, her voice hysterical. She couldn't believe that five minutes after she got home, her father had already gotten to her. Her yearning for Peter's guidance and friendship had never been greater. "You tried to erase my memories! How can you expect me to trust you after that? I can't even look at you without it making me sick."

She was mildly surprised to find that her last comment really knocked the wind out of him. He slumped against the counter, dumbly placing the tasting spoon he had been holding down. "Claire, is that how you really feel?"

Claire was shaking and crying and her whole body vibrated from the depth of her anger. She had no idea just how much she had been repressing until now. "Yes." She gritted out, looking at him squarely in the eye. "I would never have come back if you hadn't made me promise to. I had to come back because of mom and Lyle."

"You don't think I'd try to _hurt _my own family?"

"What do you call erasing mom's memories? You're _killing _her with all the memories you've already erased, you're killing her mind! You're killing her slowly and painfully and I hate you for that!" Her breath came in short, sharp bursts.

The sauce in the pot that he had been stirring now reached full boil, the bubbling incongruous against the power of their outbursts. Claire stared at it mutely, not knowing what else she could say to lay her feelings more emphatically out onto the table. "I never wanted to hurt you. Or your mom." Claire's eyes flickered up to her father's face but his eyes were dark, unreadable. "All I've ever wanted was to protect you – all of you – from everything I knew was out there."

"Well you did a bang up job."

"All I ever wanted … was to protect you. Keep you safe and happy." Try as she might, Claire couldn't help but feel slightly sorry at the anger that she had unleashed onto him. She was convinced that she was right not to trust him, but he was the one she had always run to before everything went to hell and he had always come through for her. She couldn't forget that even if she wanted to. And – incredible as it seemed – she actually believed even now that that all he really wanted was to protect his family.

Her life was so screwed up, she didn't know which way to turn. "But I'm not safe or happy." She said softly, all the emotion of the day draining out of her to leave her tired and weary. "You can't protect me anymore Dad. You have to let me go."

"Will you go to him?" He asked after a while, quietly, penetratingly.

"Who, Peter?" Off his confusion, she corrected herself. "Oh, you mean … Nathan. Probably. He said I could, if I wanted to. What about mom and Lyle?"

"You let me worry about your mother and brother. They're … all I'll have left."

"I …" Claire felt bad, in the way that she used to feel when she had thrown a tantrum and had finally gotten her own way about something.

"Don't say anything. Just … go." She allowed him to envelope her in a bear hug and for a brief moment she was transported back to her childhood, where her dad was just her dad and everything was safe and normal. "I'm always going to love you Claire-bear. And I'll always be there, watching out for you."

Claire wasn't sure whether hearing that from him made her feel better, or worse.

* * *

If Peter was surprised to receive a call from her this quickly after she had just left, he had a funny way of showing it. Instead of being stunned, he quipped upon hearing her voice. "You know, it's funny. As soon as you left I felt I was going to see you again really soon." 

Claire quickly relayed her conversation with her father to him. Predictably, Peter was kind and sympathetic, and even from this great a distance she could feel his calmness infusing her being. "So … if Nathan's offer still stands –"

"I'm sure it still stands." Peter quickly cut her off. "I mean, it was only a few hours ago. I'm sure not even politicians change their minds that quickly. How fast can you get here?"

She laughed at his earnestness. It was a refreshing change to the drama she had just faced with her father. "How quickly can you get me there?" She retorted.

Claire was only joking of course, but she swore audibly when Peter and Hiro appeared in the next instant in front of her. Hiro had a delighted grin on his face while Peter looked sheepish but pleased. "Pretty quickly." He snapped his cell phone closed. "I was meeting up with Hiro when you called."

Claire's eyes were wide with shock and she was sure that she must have resembled a stunned fish. "I'll never get used to seeing that." She gasped and nodded silently at Hiro, shooting him a grateful smile. He stepped aside to let Peter greet her warmly.

Seeing his excitement and eagerness exude made her remember why they were so close. Heedless of their audience, she flung herself into his arms. It was lucky that she was as small as she was, otherwise the force with which she launched herself at him would have landed them both on the ground. She giggled and gasped aloud when he spun her around a few times, laughing at her excited, relentlessly girlish squeals.

Hiro soon took Peter and Claire back on their return trip back to New York. The journey – for lack of a better word – wasn't at all like what she had thought it was going to be. Instead of feeling spaced out or jet lagged (in retrospect she didn't know why she would, but go figure), everything seemed normal. Safe.

They were soon back where they had started from – at Nathan's front door. Peter swiftly let them into the house just as a startled Nathan walked up to greet them. "What are you doing –"

"Claire's back. To stay." Peter looked at her for confirmation, subtly squeezing her arm. Claire was only just realising that she still clung to him like he was a figment of her imagination, afraid he'd disappear in a puff of smoke if she didn't concentrate hard enough to keep him around. A part of her still couldn't believe it – that her dad had actually let her come here, allowed her to come and get to know her other family for real.

She nodded firmly, looking up at Peter. "I am. If you'll have me."

Claire decided that smirking was the only way that Nathan could show any sort of real emotion about her, but she didn't mind. He opened the door wider to allow them to pass through. "Where are your bags?" His eyes searched theirs curiously. "You didn't bring … your bags?"

"We kind of left in a hurry." Peter pointed out, the sheepish grin appearing back on is features. Practical matters such as overnight bags and toiletries really weren't his strong suit. "I guess we'll just have to buy Claire some new things."

"You mean _I'll _have to get her some new things." Nathan grumbled, quite good naturedly Claire thought given the circumstances. He handed her a gold card. "You can take this card tomorrow. It's got a credit limit set on it, and I'll know when you two have reached it." He pointed a stern finger at his brother. "And don't think I didn't notice a few things you snuck in for yourself on my card, Peter. What, you think I wouldn't notice an extra pair of jeans from Marc Jacobs? Who the hell is Marc Jacobs anyway and since when do I even own a pair of jeans?"

Claire couldn't resist a tiny giggle at the last time she and Peter and talked about Nathan's credit card bill. He must have seen the size of his latest statement if he was implementing these new measures. "Thanks Nathan."

"Just don't lose it." Afraid of showing any more emotion, he left them to stare nervously at each other in the cavernous foyer.

She gazed up at Peter, her hero, her knight in shining – whatever. The significant of her being here, in New York, wasn't lost on her.

It evidently wasn't lost on him either. Peter leaned down, so close that she could smell the unique scent that was purely composed of him. "Welcome home." He whispered softly into her ear as they embraced tightly, clinging to each other as if never wanting to let go.

**Finis**


End file.
